Powerful Words
by Sadie Elfgirl
Summary: Legolas returns wounded from a hunting trip and Thranduil feels increcibly guilty about things that were said. Complete!
1. Guilt

**Summary- Legolas comes back wounded from a hunting trip and Thranduil feels incredibly guilty about things that were said.**

**Disclaimer- Don't own, get no money, very poor, please don't sue.**

Powerful words.

A shadow of a figure crept through the silent halls of Mirkwood. His footsteps fell to lightly for any human to hear, and even an elf would be hard pressed to identify the whisper of sound.

Slowly, slowly he proceeded down a long hall. His goal lay at the end.

Suddenly, he froze. Behind him were. voices! Someone was coming! Quickly, he seemed to dissolve into the shadows of the wall, forcing himself to remain still, and not to stir.

Two young elf lords came into view, talking and laughing. They didn't see him. They passed without a glance and disappeared into their room.

The figure, an elf himself, released a silent sigh of relief. He moved forward again.

The doorway at the end of the hall loomed before him. He traced his fingers gently over the healer's symbol engraved into the door; moving down the smooth wood until his slender fingers came to rest on the handle. He hesitated.

He snorted in self-disgust (though very softly). He had no reason to be afraid. His fingers gripped the handle and turned it decidedly.

The door swung inwards without a sound.

Before him was a bed.

An elf lay there. His breathing was soft and erratic. Bandages covered his right arm from the elbow down to his wrist.

His eyes were shut.

All the former hesitance and fear surged back. The elf swallowed hard and forced himself to step forward. Gingerly, he lowered himself onto the edge of the wounded elf's bed. His hand stretched out, almost timidly, stopping just short of the elf's forehead. He looked down at the face that was so pale against the pillows.

The wounded elf was young, and the pallor of his cheeks made him seem even younger. His long blond hair was stretched across the pillow, freed from the usual braids he plaited it into.

Prince Legolas, heir to the Mirkwood throne.

The older elf gently brought his hand down, stroking the soft golden hair. He closed his eyes tightly as tears started to form in the corners. The young prince had flatly declared that he was far to old for such affectionate gestures at the age of 100.

" _Ion nin_," he murmured softly, his face tight with pain. The tears slowly pooled and slid down his fair elven face.

Thranduil continued to stroke his son's fair head, his silent sobs shaking his body. So many things had gone wrong. so many things.

Why, oh why had he argued with his son before he left that last time? Why had he felt the need to say such things?

-----------------

_Thranduil stood at the door to his son's room, looking on in disapproval as Legolas readied himself for a hunting trip. The king sighed in frustration. "Legolas." _

Legolas did not look up from the bag he was currently packing. " Yes, ada?"

" I thought we agreed that last time was the last hunting trip you would take this winter."

" We did not."

" Legolas, I was quite clear. You have neglected you duties of late, and now is the time to amend that."

Legolas fiddled with the strap on the bag, obviously unwilling to look up. When he spoke, his voice was so soft that Thranduil had to strain to hear his words.

" Perhaps my duties are not to my liking."

The Elvenking's eyes flashed. " You are the prince, Legolas. Your duties are to groom you for the time when you will be King."

Now Legolas did look up, and his own eyes flashed. " Then perhaps I do not wish to be the King!"

Thranduil's eyes widened. He was shocked down to the core of his being. Did his son find him so odious that he did not even wish to inherit his position? Perhaps that was the reason he had suddenly taking to avoiding him of late.

" Continue with that attitude," Thranduil ground between his teeth. " And you will not be fit for the position."

Shocked silence filled the room. Thranduil had time to see the hurt flood his son's blue eyes, before he turned and stalked away.

_  
_-----------------

The Elvenking groaned softly as he remembered. He withdrew his hand from his son's head and gripped his uninjured hand tightly. The tears fell freely now, wetting his cheeks.

He did not bother to wipe them away.

------------------

_Thranduil stood at his balcony, thankful that he had built it looking out over Mirkwood. He wanted to be the first that spotted his son returning home. He wanted to apologize. _

Three days had passed since the hard words in Legolas' chamber and the father had felt the sting of guilt most acutely.

The slender fingers of his right hand began to tap on the railing. A sure sign of nervousness.

He turned away with a sigh. He would wait until tomorrow morning, then he would send out search parties. While it was not unheard of for his son to be gone for three days, it was also not entirely normal.

When he was gone for long a period of time he had a tendency to turn up… injured.

A cry went up from the gates. Thranduil's head jerked upwards. Legolas! Dread suddenly churned in his heart, putting wings on his feet as he flew to the main gate. The cry had not been a happy one. Something was wrong. Something was dreadfully, horribly wrong. He arrived panting. There was a crowd already gathered, and the parted to let him through.

His eyes widened.

Three elves stood at the gate. Or, two elves stood and the third sagged between the two, one arm thrown over each of their shoulders.

Long blond hair hung in filthy tangles around his bowed head.

" No."

" I am sorry, your majesty," one of the elves rasped, clearly exhausted.

" Legolas!" The king leapt forward, taking his son's weight from the other two. He did not notice the healers appear, and barely registered the fact that his son's friends were badly wounded.

The young elf lay limply in his arms, his head thrown back.

His eyes were shut.

" No. No, Legolas."

A long, ugly slash marked the prince's arm from the elbow to the wrist. Blood still dripped from it slowly. On his neck was a brilliant red mark; not significant to many, but for those who lived in Mirkwood.

A spider's bite.

_0-0-0-0_

_Ion nin- my son_

_Ada-Father(daddy)_

_0-0-0-0_


	2. Memory

Thranduil resumed stroking his son's fair hair. A slight smile broke through his tears as he remembered his son coming to him when he was very little, asking for help to braid his unruly mane.

" _melethon le, tithen pen nin_," he whispered softly.

Legolas did not stir.

" Your Highness!"

Thranduil jumped, his hand jerking away from his son's head. He whirled to face the doorway.

The head healer stood there, his arms crossed. " Your highness, what are you doing here? The prince should not be disturbed."

Thranduil stood slowly. " Does it look like I am disturbing him?"

" Sire, he needs rest. He won't get that while he has someone hovering over him like a mother h."

Thranduil cut the irate healer off with a wave of his hand. One of the advantages of being a king. " I am not leaving him, master healer." He sat on the edge of his son's bed, his eyes riveted on the still face.

The elf knew he had lost, but had to try. " But why, highness? He cannot hear you."

Thranduil did not answer. With a sigh, the healer left, shutting the door behind him.

Thranduil slowly released his air into the stillness of the room. " I am not leaving," he said softly to himself. His hands slowly began to stroke Legolas' hair once more.

" He doesn't like to be alone."

-----------------------------Flashback 

_Thranduil awoke. He sat up in his bed, wondering why he had suddenly been jerked to wakefulness at this late hour._

It was a sound. Something that should not be.

Frustrated, he flung back his covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He froze. There! There was the sound again!

The Elvenking threw a robe over his sleeping clothes and moved soundlessly into the hall. His keen ears detected the sound again, coming from the young prince's bedchamber.

Throwing caution to the winds, the Elvenking sprinted to his son's room. He flung the door open. "Legolas!"

The elven prince was curled up tightly in his bed, his golden head buried in his arms. Soft sobs were muffled by the pillows, yet Thranduil could easily identify the sound that had woken him.

The elfling raised his head at the sound of his father's voice. " Ada!"

Thranduil quickly pulled the small child into his arms and held him close. " Ion nin, what troubles you?"

Blue eyes filled with tears looked at the king beseechingly. " Gwilileth is gone, and I do not want to be alone."

The king nodded wisely, remembering the death of his son's pet dog. " You do not have to be alone, tithen pen. Tonight, you may stay in my chamber, and tomorrow, we will find you another pet."

Thranduil lifted the elfling easily and carried him back to his own room. Legolas had fallen asleep by the time he had reached the large bed, and the Elvenking carefully laid him down. Yawning, he climbed in beside his small son and pulled the covers over them both.

Legolas stirred, moving gently. Afraid he would wake, Thranduil reached out and stroked the golden strands of hair back from his son's small forehead.

At the touch the young prince instinctively rolled over and cuddled against his father's bulk. Thranduil froze.

'Amazing,' he thought to himself as he looked down at the perfect, tiny features, so calm in sleep. 'One small move is enough to bring all my certainty crashing down around my ears. But then,'

A soft smile spread across his face as his hand resumed stroking his son's fair hair.

'it is also enough to fill me with incredible joy.'

-------------------------------Flashback ends

Two healers watched the unmoving figure of their king out of the corners of their eyes as they performed their duties.

" How long has he been there?" one whispered as he labeled a bottle.

" Three days." The other elf tried to keep his attention on the bundle of herbs he was sorting, but could not keep his eyes from straying toward the other end of the room. " He hasn't left the prince's bedside for three days."

The first set his bottle on a shelf. He cast a surreptitious look at his Lord, then lowered his voice a little more. " How bad is the prince?"

" Master Helith cannot cure him. And the King has sent a message to Lord Elrond."

The healer paled at his friend's words. " That bad?"

The elf nodded grimly. " Aye."

------------------------------------

Thranduil swayed woozily in his sitting position. Three days and nights without sleep were starting to catch up to him. He stood and stretched, trying to wake himself.

A healer appeared at his elbow, holding a tray of food and a beaker of water. " Won't you eat something today, my lord?"

At the very mention of food, Thranduil felt his stomach threaten to revolt. " No. No thank you."

The healer sighed. " My lord, you cannot help your son if you make yourself ill."

Without a word, the king stared at him.

The healer quailed under the power of the haunted gaze. " At least a drink of water..?" he fumbled.

To his surprise, Thranduil heaved a sigh and took the beaker from the tray. " Fine. If it will make the healers happy."

The elf watched his king sip at the water and nodded, satisfied. He stepped out into the corridor and was immediately accosted by the Master Healer, Helith.

" Did he drink the water?"

The younger healer grinned at his superior. " Aye."

Helith sighed in relief. " Thank the Valar." He returned the young elf's grin. " Well done, Ares."

Ares glanced back at the door. " How much of the sleeping potion did you put in the water?"

" Enough," Helith replied grimly. " He has to sleep, or I will be tending him by the time Lord Elrond arrives."

-----------------------------------

Thranduil yawned widely. He looked suspiciously at the cup he had received from Ares and set it down on a small table, resolving to drink no more.

Of course, by that time it was too late.

The Elvenking swayed where he stood and cursed himself silently. He should have seen through this rather obvious deception.

Someone had moved a chair next to Legolas' bedside for the king, but he had never used it until now. Sinking down, he struggled to remain conscious.

His breathing started to deepen, and slow. The world was fading quickly. With a last effort, the king reached out and grasped his son's left hand, hoping it would be enough to wake him should the prince move.

Even sleep could not calm the Elvenking, for his dreams haunted him…

0-0-0-0

_Melethon le, tithen pen nin.-I love you, my little one._

_Ada-Father(daddy)_

0-0-0-0


	3. Dreams

Allright, this chapter needs some explanation before I plunge in.:) This starts out within a dream of Thranduil's. When you see this, 0-0-0-0 that means that what you are reading is a dream, and when you see it again, the next paragraph will be NOT a dream. Everyone thouroughly confused now? Good.:) Hope you all like the chapter.

0-0-0-0

" He's perfect, _meleth nin_." The queen of Mirkwood looked up to her husband and laughed quietly. " Fortunately, he takes after me, instead of his father."

Thranduil pouted playfully. " You needn't brag, Lady. Tis only too true that our son has inherited your beauty, your grace..."

The perfect elfling in question decided he had been ignored long enough and set up a wail from his position in his mother's arms.

" Your patience..."

The fair queen laughed as she coddled her son, coaxing a smile back onto his tiny face. " You forgot one thing, my Lord," she told her king as soon as the young prince had ceased howling.

Thranduil bent over the little Legolas, allowing his son to play with the long blond braids that swung forwards. "mmm? And what was that?"

" He has your voice..."

0-0-0-0

Helith cast a cautious glance at this Lord as he changed the young prince's bandages. For a moment, a smile had played across the Elvenking's features, but now it was gone.

0-0-0-0

" _Ada_?" The young prince appeared in the doorway. " What's the matter?"  
Thranduil did not respond to his young son. He sat at his desk, his face buried in his hands.

" _Ada_?" Legolas clambered into his father's lap, his small hands reaching up to stroke the Elvenking's cheek.

Slowly, Thranduil circled his son with his arms, clinging to the small, blond elfling as if his life depended on it. He met the child's eyes and nearly despaired. Did his eyes have to be exactly her shade of blue? His features a permanent reminder of that which was lost?

The child's blond brows drew together in confusion. What could upset his strong father so badly? And how could he help? His eyes brightened as a thought occurred to him. If he didn't know what to do, at least he knew someone who did...

" We will find _nana_," he told his father decisively. " She will know what to do..." Legolas broke off in horror as he saw his father's eyes fill with tears.

Without a word, the Elvenking clung to his child and sobbed.

Legolas cried as well, his father's tears frightening him. For if his father cried, surely something truly horrible had happened...,

0-0-0-0

Thranduil groaned in his sleep as his dreams became darker.

0-0-0-0

" What happened?"

One of Legolas' friends who had accompanied the prince on his hunting trip stood before the king. He shifted from leg to leg, uncomfortable.

Thranduil fixed the elf with a steady gaze. " Please, Halden, I need to know."

Halden stared at his lord. He could not remember ever hearing the king say please before in all of his long life. " We were attacked by a spider colony, my lord," he said softly. " On the morning of the second day." He squirmed again, not completely willing to explain everything...he felt as though somehow he was betraying Legolas...

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. " And?"

Halden sighed. Thranduil was his king. " The prince, Legolas," Halden shook his head. This was hard. " My lord, he fought as though he wished to die."

The Elvenking's eyes widened. " Explain," he rasped.

" He did not guard himself, but plunged right into the very thick. Wherever there were the most spiders, that is where he would be. Twice, I killed spiders that would have taken off his head because he was not taking sufficient precautions. The second time, he turned on me..." Halden's forehead creased. " Then he said something strange."

" What?"

" He said...that I was not to look after him. He said he must 'prove himself fit for the position.' I did not know what he meant." The young elf missed the stricken expression that flickered across his Lord's face. " The spiders were being beaten back. We had almost won, but then I heard Legolas cry out." Halden's features creased with guilt. " A spider had managed to climb into a tree right over Legolas. It dropped down, trapping him underneath. Before I or Bram could get to him, he was bit..."

0-0-0-0

Helith jerked his head up in astonishment. The king had actually cried out in his sleep! It was a soft cry, but it pierced the healer to the very soul. He looked on the face of his liege, and his heart crumbled. With a deep sigh, he moved to Thranduil's side and shook him gently.

" My lord," he whispered softly.

-------------------------

Thranduil felt the dream lose it's grip on him. He slid from it's clutch, back towards the land of the waking. With a start, he came back to consciousness.

Helith stood before him, and Thranduil was surprised to see tears shining in the other elf's eyes.

" I am sorry, your majesty," Helith said quietly. " If I had known...,"

Thranduil passed a hand before his eyes, as if to wipe away the lingering images. " They're only dreams," he said roughly. He looked at his son's still form. " Has there been any change?"

Helith shook his head. " None."

-------------------------------

Unnoticed by either elf, the door to the healing wing swung open.

--------------------------------------

Thranduil leaned forwards and pushed a strand of golden hair behind his son's pointed ear. " His arm?"

" I checked the wound while you slept," Helith said. " It seems to be healing well."

---------------------------------

An elf entered. Tall, with dark hair and piercing gray eyes.

---------------------------------

Thranduil's brow furrowed. Something was not right...,he suddenly leapt from the chair and whirled towards the door, his hand closing around the hilt of a knife he kept concealed in his robes.

He leapt toward the intruder...only to find his elven dagger blocked by another. Thranduil gasped in surprise as he viewed his opponent.

" Really," Lord Elrond of Imladris said dryly. " Had I known that this was the welcome you had in store for me, I should not have bothered to come."

Thranduil's dagger fell from nerveless fingers. " Elrond...I..."

Elrond held up his hand, halting his friend's speech. " Peace," he said softly, returning his dagger to its sheath. " I understand. Where is Legolas?"

" Here, my lord," Helith managed to squeak from his position beside the prince's bedside.

Without a word, the lord of Imladris crossed the room to the bed on which Legolas lay.

Thranduil clasped his hands tightly behind his back in an effort to keep his hands still. Elrond had been examining his son for the last hour...and the Elvenking's worry was increasing exponentially with every minute that passed.

Elrond finally straightened, stretching the muscles in his back. A frown wrinkled his brow.

'not a good sign,' Thranduil thought to himself. "What is wrong with him, Peredhel?"

"The poison has passed," Elrond said softly. "His arm is healing. Were he to wake now, I would say he would be out of bed in less than a day."

Thranduil felt his heart freeze at the other elf's words. "Why won't he wake?"

The Lord of Imladris shook his head, his dark braids swinging across his face. " Something is wrong with his heart. But it is not a malady that I can heal." He saw the look of despair that crossed the fair king's face and felt his heart squeeze with sympathy. " I cannot heal him, Thranduil," he repeated. "But I can help."

Elrond gently placed a hand over Legolas' forehead and began to murmur softly.


	4. Choices

_He stood at the brink of an abyss, a strong wind sweeping around him, blowing long, blond braids about his face._

The darkness before him was welcoming. It seemed to reach upwards and pull at him, eager to fold him into an embrace.

Yet he was afraid of it.

Behind him was light. Light and warmth and the sound of familiar voices. They seemed discordant and jangling. He did not wish to turn and move toward them...yet somehow sensed that they would be better than the welcoming dark.

" Legolas."

The blond elf started. This was the first time one of the voices had become clearly legible. He almost turned, but could not tear his eyes from the abyss.

" Legolas, I know you can hear me."

The prince's eyebrows drew together in a frown. Where did he know this voice from? " Yes," he replied, wishing to hear the speaker again. " I can hear you."

" Turn, and face me, prince of Mirkwood."

Legolas flinched at the command; his shoulders hunching as though the words had been a whip aimed at his back. He closed his eyes tightly at the title the voice addressed him with.

Prince of Mirkwood.

He was not fit for the position.

" I...cannot." He whispered.

" Cannot...or will not?" the voice queried.

" Cannot," Legolas snapped. His feet edged a little closer towards the abyss. He felt annoyed now. Even more so when he realized that he was indeed lying to the strange voice behind him. The abyss pulled more eagerly at him, and the elven prince longed to step completely over the edge...

A hand closed over his shoulder, shocking the blond elf. He had not been able to feel another's touch for what seemed like a very, very long time.

Instinctively, his own hand flew to the hand that gripped his shoulder, closing over it, longing for the touch of another...

" Not that way," the voice said sternly. " Not yet."

The hand...Legolas suddenly went cold. The hand was strong, obviously elven...and there was a ring upon its finger. A ring with a stone set in it.

Suddenly he knew where he had heard this voice before.

'Valar,' he thought in despair. 'Sweet Eru! Give me orcs...'

The hand started to turn him around.

'wargs!'  
It did not brook with the feeble resistance he offered.

'A balrog!'  


_A hand caught at his chin as he attempted to look at his feet instead of meet the others' eyes..._

'Ringwraiths?'

Legolas stared into the gray eyes of the Lord of Imladris.

'Death by lecture...tragic.'

The barest hint of a smile tugged at the Elf lord's mouth, as if he guessed what thoughts passed through the young elf's mind. " Tell me," he said seriously. " Why do you stay in darkness?"

Legolas bit his lip and averted his eyes. " I see no light, hir nin. Everything is darkness."

" Young prince..."

The elf prince winced openly at the title.

'you will not be fit for the position...'

" I am no prince," he said harshly. " I am not fit for my position."

" Your father thinks otherwise."

Legolas laughed, and was surprised to hear how cold and bitter it sounded. " Let him tell me so himself."

" He has." Elrond smiled sadly and removed his hand from Legolas' shoulder. " You have not been listening."

Legolas frowned, his brows knotting together. He had been listening, but all he had heard were murmurs...Elrond's voice was the first to become clear...

" You did not hear," the elf lord said in quiet rebuke, " because you did not wish to." He stretched out his hand and took Legolas by the arm. " Come. I will show you."

Legolas closed his eyes tightly.

When he opened them, he gasped in surprise.

He was standing in the healing wing. Lord Elrond stood beside him, a hand still resting on his shoulder.

It was night. Stars shone through the large windows, combating with the guttering flame of a single candle.

Before them stretched a bed. Legolas nearly choked when he saw his own body lying upon it. He glanced at Elrond, confused, but the Lord of Imladris merely shook his head and held a finger to his lips.

The door swung open silently.

Legolas really did choke this time as he saw the elf that entered.

He was tall, and blond hair flowed back over his shoulders. He seemed very uncomfortable in this place, but forced himself to draw near the bed. Gingerly, he sat on the edge of the wounded prince's bed. His hand reached hesitantly, stopping just short of stroking back Legolas' hair from his forehead.

For a moment, it seemed as thought time had stopped.

The Legolas standing next to Elrond felt his throat close. " Ada..." he breathed.

As though he had been awaiting that signal, Thranduil's hand came down. Legolas saw his eyes close, and tears well up into the corners.

" Ion nin," The Elvenking whispered brokenly.

Legolas turned away, desperate to be free of the vision.

Another swam before his eyes. Still in the healing wing, the only difference was that Thranduil looked more haggard, as though he had sat in that position for many days.

" He has," Elrond answered Legolas' unspoken question.

Legolas squirmed uncomfortably.

"Melethon le," Thranduil spoke softly to his unconscious son. " Tithen pen nin."  


_Legolas groaned and shut his eyes tightly. " Stop," he grated between his teeth. When Elrond did not respond, the elf prince ventured to crack open an eyelid._

He was back, standing on the edge of the abyss.

Somehow, it did not seem so welcoming anymore.

" You see?" the Elf Lord asked quietly.

Legolas swallowed hard. " Yes," he whispered.

Elrond's keen gray eyes seemed to bite into him. " And?"

" Please," the fair-haired prince sank down to the ground and drew his knees in close to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. " Give me time to decide."

Elrond sighed deeply, worry and concern tracing their way over his features. " I will give you time, young one. I cannot force you to make any decision. I will however warn you,"

Was it his imagination, or was the voice growing less distinct?

" Do not take a great amount of time."

No, it was quickly fading into the constant murmur of the other voices.

" The longer you stay, the harder it will be to come back."

Legolas looked up, and was unhappily surprised to see that Elrond was gone. He was alone once more. The abyss yawned before his feet, the light shone at his back, and he sat miserably between the two.

He had a choice to make.

-----------------------------------

Thranduil looked at Elrond anxiously. The Elf Lord removed his hand from Legolas' forehead and heaved a great sigh, as though exhausted. Indeed he looked as though he was ready to drop. Wearily, he started to rise.

Thranduil leapt forwards and caught Elrond as the elf's knees gave out. " Elrond!" The Elvenking hastily helped his friend into the armchair. " What happened?"

" I've done what I can," Elrond murmured. His gray eyes looked past Thranduil and fell on the Mirkwood prince. " It's up to him now."

----------------

_Legolas shuddered slightly, Elrond's last words floating through his head._

' The longer you stay, the harder it will be to come back.'

He did not want to return, but he didn't really want to stay either. The longer he stayed, the less welcoming the abyss seemed. Likewise, the light seemed more and more friendly. Since Elrond had left, he could hear bits and snatches of what the voices behind him were saying.

He swore he could hear his father.

'He fades, Elrond.'

" No," Legolas whispered. " I'm still here."

'He fades and I can not reach him. Curse my foolish words!'

Legolas felt tears well in his blue eyes as he heard the despair in his father's voice.

'How can I bear this? How can I bear to lose him, when I have already lost his mother?'

The elven prince could not stand it. He knew his choice now. He made to stand---but his feet slid beneath him. His eyes widened. " No!"

'He fades, Elrond.'

He had stayed to long...the choice was taken from his hands.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he slid backwards into the embrace of the dark.

" NO!"  
  
--------------------------------------

Elrond's eyes narrowed. Something was not right. He rose from his chair and moved to Legolas' side.

Thranduil straightened up anxiously in his own chair. " What is it?"

The Elf Lord was grimly checking the prince's pulse. " His breathing has slowed. His pulse has slowed as well..." He grasped Legolas' uninjured hand in his own. " His hand is cold." Slowly, he met the stricken gaze of the Elvenking. " We're losing him."

------------------------------

_Legolas clung to the edge tightly, but could feel himself slipping further and further. Despair pulled at his heart, weakening his fingers. It was too hard to fight. It would be so easy to just...let...go._

He was holding on with only the tips of his fingers now.

Now only one hand.  
  
-------------------------------------

A deep sigh escaped Elrond's lips. Gently, he released the elven prince's limp hand and turned to the father who stood beside him. Tears pricked his gray eyes. " I am sorry, Thranduil."

The blond king shook his head weakly, as if he could refute what Elrond would say.

The lord of Imladris felt his heart break at the look of grief that spread across his friend's face and wished with all his heart that this had ended differently.

" He is gone."

" Legolas..." Thranduil's voice was desperate, his blue eyes searching the still form for any sign that Elrond was incorrect.

All at once, it seemed the grief came crushing in on him. The Elvenking gave a cry like a wounded animal and covered his face with his hands. He would have fallen had not Elrond caught him tightly.

" Legolas..." The elf groaned. _" Ion nin_..."

" Come, _mellon nin_," Elrond said, his voice rough with emotion. " Out of this place at least."  
Without a word, Thranduil allowed the dark haired elf to lead him away.

0-0-0-0

Melethon le, tithen pen nin- I love you my little one 

_Ion nin- My son_

_Mellon nin- My friend_

_Ada- Father(daddy)_

0-0-0-0


	5. Death

_He wouldn't let go._

He knew that he was fighting a losing battle. There was no way he would make it out of the abyss on his own.

One hand was all that kept him falling into death, and he would not release his hold.

The abyss pulled at him, sucking at his legs and body, whipping his hair around his face. Every so often, he would feel his fingers slip a little further. There was nothing he could do about it, and it frustrated him to no end.

Why had he not accompanied Elrond? Why had he not left when he could?

How ironic that now he was unwilling to die, it was the only choice left available.

Legolas ground his teeth together and tried to bring his other hand up to grasp the ledge.But it was as if the arm no longer existed. The elven prince groaned. He had no hope left. Only his will. His stubborn, tenacious, unruly will.

His father's will.

The pull of the abyss was no longer welcoming. It mocked him even as it sought to drag his fingers loose. The fair elf cursed the pull even as he tried to tighten his one-handed grip.

He wished he could hear his father's voice.But in the abyss, there was no sound except what came from his own throat.

-------------------------------

" Lord Elrond?"

The dark-haired elf raised his head to see the master healer, Helith standing before him. He tried to smile, but could not manage it. " What can I do for you?"

" My lord, I am worried about the king."

------------------------------------

Elrond strode down the hall toward the healer's wing.

There, standing before the door, was Thranduil. He was clothed entirely in black. No crown, nor even a circlet. His hair was the only thing that shone in the dim light of the hall. Usually unbound, it was now held back in braids.

Elrond froze for a moment, unsure of how to approach his friend. He wondered, as he gazed at the king of Mirkwood, how stillness could manage to portray so vivid an image of unfathomable grief. Finally, the elf lord stepped forward again. " Thranduil…?"

Thranduil looked up and sighed as he saw Elrond approach. " Yes?"

" The healers are worried about you, _mellon nin_."

The fair king sighed again, and turned away from his friend. He leaned against the door; pressing his forehead against the cool wood.

" At the moment," He said quietly, " I am not overly concerned with the healers."

The dark-haired elf opened his mouth to say something, but Thranduil cut him off.

" Every time they speak to me, they find some way to mention it is time to think of Legolas' funeral preparations. Every. Single. Time."

Elrond's eyes darkened. He would speak to the healers about this.,

" I know that something will have to be done eventually," the Elvenking continued. " And yet.Whenever I think of actually.Going through with preparations, I feel.," the blond elf seemed to struggle for words. Frustrated, he turned and faced Elrond. " I feel as though I would be burying him alive!"

Elrond's heart clenched as he saw the pain and frustration etched into this friend's face. His blue eyes were filled with tears, though none were on his cheeks.

" It has only been one day," Thranduil's voice cracked and he bowed his head, a hand coming up to cover his eyes. His voice sank to a murmur that Elrond had to strain to hear. " Can they not give me just a little more time?"

The Lord of Imladris had to clear his throat before answering. " They will." His voice was determined, and his eyes had turned to cold steel. " Come with me, mellon nin. We will 'talk' with your healers.

--------------------------------

_This was the end. Legolas knew any moment now his fingers would slide from the edge and he would fall. The pull of the abyss had become steadily stronger, and he no longer had the strength to resist._

There.His fingers were slipping...,

A cry welled up his chest, forcing its way out of his throat.

It echoed into the blackness that surrounded him even as his hand slid away from the edge...,

-----------------------------

"ADA!"

----------------------------

Thranduil froze, his mind refusing to believe what his ears had just heard. Disregarding the rational part of his senses entirely, the Elvenking sprinted back down the hall, Elrond following close at his heels.

'It couldn't be,' one part of his brain whispered even as he ran. 'it couldn't be, it couldn't be.'

'Faster,' howled the part he was listening to. 'Your son is calling for you.'

The blond elf hit the healing wing's door at full tilt, ignoring the knob and tearing the latch clean out of the wall in his haste.

" Legolas!"

Thranduil leapt to his son's side. " Legolas!'

0-0-0-0

Mellon nin- My friend 

0-0-0-0


	6. Life

The elf prince's body was still and cold. An appalling _emptiness_ seemed to emanate from the lifeless form as if to mock the Elvenking. Yes, his son was really gone. He would never have the chance to withdraw his words.to breach the gap he had made.

Without warning, fury swelled within his heart. It couldn't be! He had heard his son's voice! The Valar could not be so cruel as to taunt him in such a manner!

Thranduil sank to his knees beside Legolas' bed, seizing the golden- haired youth's hand in an almost crushing grip as the dam that held his grief in check shattered.

Elrond's face twisted with grief. Silently, he withdrew from the room, closing the door behind him.

The blond king wept angrily. To lose his son once was enough...but to be teased with false hope was unbearable. " Legolas," he cried, "I'm sorry for my words! Please," his voice sank to a whisper. "Do not leave. Come back to me…" Overcome, Thranduil could say no more. His head sank down to rest on the bed as the sobs shook his body.

His grip on his son's hand tightened, as though he would keep the young elf's soul anchored to his body with force.

---------------------------

_The darkness pressed against him with an almost tangible force. He could feel it flow over his body as it threatened to devour his consciousness. It whispered in his ears, mocking him. He snarled at it through clenched teeth, determined to hold to his being as long as possible.but he could already feel himself start to slip away. He no longer had the will to fight._

Warm fingers clamped around his hand with a steely grip.

Legolas blinked, confused. How could this be.?

The hand was strong, and it clutched at him. The elf prince eyes widened in disbelief. He knew this hand.,

" Ada," he breathed. The sound was swallowed up almost before it left his mouth. The oppressive weight of the darkness seemed to flow into his throat, stifling him. He could not fight against it. Though his father's hand kept him from slipping away, he knew the moment he was released, what was left of his being would dissolve.  
  
----------------------------

" Come back," Thranduil whispered. " Come back, come back come back."

---------------------------

_" I can't," Legolas murmured helplessly_.

------------------------------

" Please," the Elvenking's grip tightened ever so slightly. " Try to come back."

--------------------------

_Legolas felt his father's hand tighten. Something flickered within him, a shadow of his former stubbornness, fighting to reassert itself against the press of the abyss. " I...will try."  
_  
--------------------------------

Thranduil's head jerked up. He stared at his son's hand, his blue eyes growing wide.  
Legolas had squeezed back.

---------------------------

_A small smile flickered at the corners of Leoglas' lips. Strength flowed through the hand that held him. He could feel his father's presence. There was something else as well.something that seeped through his skin, from his father to him, but he couldn't quite place what it was._

Oh yes. It was hope.

Ever so slowly, he lifted his free hand and waved it before his eyes. The fair prince laughed aloud. He hadn't been able to move for so long.

As if in response to the elf's laugh, the pressure of the abyss diminished. It released him, and he was flying upwards.,

------------------------------

Thranduil caught his breath, his eyes fastened on Legolas' face. The young elf's mouth twisted upwards, forming the barest hint of a smile. Hardly daring to believe what he was seeing, the Elvenking raised a trembling hand to stroke the blond hair back from the pale cheeks.  
" Legolas...?"

To his shock, his son's lips parted, allowing a soft laugh to float through the room.

Time seemed to stand still.

In one, perfect moment, the elf prince's eyes flew open. " _Ada_!"

Thranduil couldn't speak. His jaw very nearly hit his chest. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be happening. He _could_ _not_ be seeing his son open his eyes.

Legolas pushed himself up into a sitting position and threw his arms around his father's neck, embracing him tightly.

The Elvenking reflexively wrapped his arms around the lithe figure of his son, so stunned he could hardly have done anything else.

For a complete minute, he could not grasp the import of what had just happened.

Finally, the truth penetrated his numbed senses. His son was back. He was alive. He was here, in his arms.

" LEGOLAS!"

------------------------------------

Hearing Thranduil's cry, Elrond pushed the door open and rushed into the healing wing, his gray eyes swamped with grief and worry for his friend.

The sight that met his eyes came the closest to giving him a heart attack than anything that he had seen in over three millennia. He gasped, eyes bulging.

Father and son looked up, their eyes bright, faces wreathed in smiles.

Elrond made several small choking sounds before finally managing to ask the question he wanted. " How?"

" I do not know," Thranduil laughed. " Nor, in fact do I care. It doesn't matter." He lifted his hand and stroked Legolas' hair back from his forehead. " All that concerns me is that my son is well." His eyes suddenly narrowed. " however," he growled at his son. " If you _ever_ do anything like this again.,"

" I did not intend to, _Ada_…" Legolas protested.

Elrond chose that moment to exit, knowing that his absence would not be noticed.

------------------

Two days later.

----------------------

Thranduil entered the healing wing with a light heart and a smile. It lasted until he saw the empty bed that should've contained his son.

His grin widened, and a decidedly wicked glint appeared in his eye. Seating himself in the armchair beside what was supposed to be the prince's resting place, he stretched out, folding his hands across his stomach and crossing his ankles.

" You are fooling no one," he spoke to the seemingly empty room. " Although this is impressive. It is what, your eighth attempt today?"

" Ninth," came a muffled voice from under the bed. " I would've gotten out had you not thought to post a guard under the window." Legolas rolled out into the open, cradling his wounded arm against his chest. His blond eyebrows were drawn together in a ferocious scowl. " I do not need to stay in the healing wing, _Ada_. I am fine."

Thranduil looked down at his son without a word.

Becoming aware of his less than dignified position, the elf prince stood and quickly dusted himself off.

" Undoubtedly," the Elvenking said dryly. " However, your numerous escape attempts are not what I came to discuss."

" Really?" Legolas was indeed surprised. He had assumed the healers had been complaining again.

" Sit, Legolas." When his son had done so, Thranduil leaned forward, his face serious. " I wish to apologize." Seeing the surprise in the young elf's face, Thranduil continued. " I spoke harsh words before you left, and I bitterly regretted them later." He paused for a moment, then forced himself to go on. " Forgive me_, ion nin_. Please."

Legolas' mouth fell open. His father had never asked forgiveness before., He stared for a moment and suddenly realized that his father was still waiting for an answer.

" Of course!" He smiled at his father. " it took me time, ada, but I know that you did not mean what you said."

The Elvenking smiled in relief. He sighed deeply, as though a great weight had been taken from his shoulders.

Legolas saw the mischievous light glimmer in his father's eyes, but was so unused to the sight; he had no way of preparing for what came next.

Quicker than thought, Thranduil's hand shout out and thoroughly ruffled his son's golden hair.

" _Ada_!" Legolas jerked out of the way, his face turning red.

" I could not help it," his father laughed. " It has been a very long time since I've done that."

" Not long enough," the elf prince muttered under his breath.

" What was that?"

" I said, how about releasing me from the healing wing?"

" With your arm still the way it is?" Thranduil raised an eyebrow at his son and snorted. " Unlikely. However, if you promise not to try to escape, I will tell the healers that they are to let you loose at the end of the week."

Legolas groaned, but knew when to give in. " A deal."

Thranduil grinned and rose from his seat. As he reached the doorway, he paused and turned back. " Rest, _ion nin_," he ordered.

" Mirkwood needs her prince."

The end.


End file.
